Before The Fall
by TheyCallMeJub
Summary: Twilight's rivalry with Trixie comes to a boil after one finally pushes the other too far.


**Before The Fall**

**by ****theycallmejub**

_Chapter One_

In a clandestine chamber hidden beneath the stage of the Canterlot Superdome, Trixie stood upon a round platform that would soon rise and deliver her to her adoring public. With eyes shut in concentration, she listened to the collective anticipatory chatter of the thousands in attendance. Even here, tucked away in this dark nook, she could hear that all too familiar murmur of suppressed expectation. Trixie had performed many times before. She lived in the public eye these days, but that sound always set her nerves on tenterhooks. That was the sound of restless expectancy. That was tremulous din of her ego being challenged, of her self-worth being questioned. She needed to dazzle them. She needed their shock and their awe. Their admiration and their envy. The affirmation of the masses had made Trixie a giant, and without it she felt small and lost and as hollow as the chamber in which she stood.

The room beneath the stage was small, round, and empty. It had only one entrance, a doorway to a staircase that led backstage, and it contained no furniture, no lamps, nothing. And like the winter den of some hibernating bear, it was dark. Or rather, it would have been dark if not for the magenta glow radiating from Trixie's horn.

Above the distant murmur of the crowd, Trixie's on-edge ears picked up the barely-there sound of tiny feet shuffling down the staircase. The chamber entrance opened with a small creek, and an even smaller voice addressed Trixie from behind, talking softly and being careful not to startle the performer.

"You're on in five," said the voice, trying to hide its excitement with a whisper. "I know you still freak out and junk before shows, and I know this is the biggest show you've ever done—like ever—like ever, ever, ever—but I think you've got this—and you shouldn't freak out—and—and—"

"It's all right, Spike," Trixie interrupted gently, her eyes still shut despite the disruption of her meditation. "Trixie is not 'freaking out'. She is composed and confident, as always."

Spike took a calming breath and adjusted his microphone headset. "Of course you're not freaking out. Whose freaking out? If anything, all this talk of freaking out is freaking me out."

"Spike," said Trixie, her voice a bit sterner now.

"Sorry," he mumbled, blushing. "No worries, Trix. You got this."

Trixie opened her eyes, but didn't turn to face the baby dragon. "_We_ have this," Trixie corrected without austerity. "Trixie is only as great and powerful as her ever-diligent staff."

Spike swooned, taken by Trixie's humility. He hopped on the mare's back and hugged her neck. Trixie's horn shone brighter, warming the baby dragon's scaly cheeks. Together, in hushed voices, they counted the seconds until show time, starting at sixty and working their way down to one. When they reached the final second of the first minute, they began again at sixty and repeated the countdown. By the end of the second minute, Trixie was rocking back and forth on her hooves, swaying in time with the rhythm of her voice as it mingled with dragon's tender tone.

This was their pre-show ritual. The gentle hum of their voices harmonizing chased away any lingering jitters, helping to set them both at ease. Though, after the few years they'd spent touring across Equestria, it had become obvious that the ritual was more for the benefit of Spike then the mare who was actually going up on stage. He had a habit of empathizing too strongly with his loved ones, so much so that he felt their emotions strike him with crippling force. He felt their pain and anxieties as sharply as he felt his own, and he shared in their triumphs with equal verve. Trixie often found the child's capacity to emote overwhelming, even bothersome at times, but she also acknowledged that it was one of his better qualities. Rocking back and forth on her hooves, Trixie basked in the radiance of her friend's affection as the last few seconds dwindled.

"Three…two…one…" they counted in unison. The fourth minute was behind them now. In just sixty seconds, the show would begin.

Spike quavered against Trixie's back. His nervousness was contagious; It seeped into the performer's pores and made her tremble as well.

Spike started to mutter an apology, but Trixie cut him short.

"Hush now," she said, her tone hurried but not terse. "Be quiet and listen."

Rarity's elegant cadence reached them from overhead, amplified as it was by the microphones suspended above the stage. Trixie and Spike had missed the first part of Rarity's introduction; they had been too lost in their counting and their closeness. Now they tuned in and listened to the tail end of Rarity's speech.

"…And now"—Rarity announced, her deep azure eyes catching the spotlight and twinkling above the curve of her white cheeks, like stars above the Frozen North—"on behalf of Sweet Apple Inc. and Carousel Boutique International, it is my honor to present to you, The Great and Powerful Trixie!"

The audience erupted into cheers. Trixie's ears perked as the roar of the crowd washed over, making her feel clean and safe and sure. If the crowd's anxious mumbling was the sound of her worth being questioned, then their ovation was the answer to that question. "Yes, she did matter," they seemed to say—speaking not with words, but with the heavy clop, clop, clop of stomping hooves. Of course she mattered; she was the Great and Powerful Trixie! Her fans needed her just as much as she needed them.

But not now. Not yet. She would attend to her chorus of followers in a moment.

Trixie's horn sparked as she casted a powerful noise-canceling spell that dimmed the roar of the crowd to a faint hum. Spike climbed down from her back and together, looking each other in the eye, they finished counting down the last few seconds.

"Three… Two…"

"Wish Trixie luck," said Trixie, flashing a humble smile.

"Nah," Spike answered with a playful shrug, feigning a nonchalant attitude.

"Why you little…" Trixie chuckled. Then she patted the dragon's head and shooed him out of the chamber.

As she watched Spike scurry through the door, her noise-canceling spell faded and the roar of the crowd returned in full force. She adjusted her hat and cape, then began raising the round platform with her own telekinetic power. As she lifted the platform, Trixie also pulled the brocade curtains aside with a single thought. Fireworks shot into the sky and burst high above the stadium seats. The spotlights roamed about the audience, as if searching for the show's star among the crowd. Music blared, not from speakers but from thin air.

All these things: the rising platform, the drawing curtains, the fireworks, the spotlights, the music—all of them were created and controlled by Trixie's magic. She shut her eyes and spread her mind thin, dedicating only a fraction of her mental and magical energy to each individual task. There were no stagehands, no ponies manning the lights or sounds, no effects crew setting off fireworks. The only ponies responsible for putting on tonight's show were Trixie and her talented team of choreographers. Her six closest friends made up the team: Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, and of course her best friend in the entire world, little Spike.

As the platform came to a stop in the center of the stage, Trixie looked out at her adoring fans and felt pride swell in her chest. Her horn did more than just glow; a circle of magic light floated above her face. Inside the circle was a veritable spider's web of tiny detailed symbols, complex patterns, and elaborate designs, the meanings of which were understood by very few unicorns alive today.

Trixie's best friends and most loyal fans sat front row center, the five of them rooting loudly, as if trying to outshout the thousands at their backs. Trixie's gaze fell first on her friends, then traveled up and out as she scanned the multitude of admiring ponies who had traveled from every corner of Equestria to watch her perform.

_Insects_, she mused, drinking in the unified clamor of their worship. _So many insignificant insects…_

The thought was entirely without malice. It was a casual observation, nothing more.

A hooded figure approached the stadium entrance and was halted by a pair of guards: one unicorn and one pegasus.

"Ticket," snorted the pegasus.

A purple light flashed from under the pony's hood. "I don't need a ticket to enter," she said, waving a hoof before the stallion's face.

"You don't need a ticket to enter," echoed the pegasus. He started to step aside, but the unicorn guard halted him by grabbing his shoulder.

The hooded mare tried her trick again, but the unicorn negated her spell with his own magic.

"Nice try," snorted the unicorn as he stepped in the path of the hooded mare. "Pull another stunt like that and I'll have you arrested for…uh…messing with a Royal Guard Pony's mind!"

The unicorn guard took a moment to bask in his own righteous authority, looking away and beaming as if posing for a photograph. The hooded mare cocked an un-amused eyebrow. The purple light flashed again, and an enchanted circle—one comparable to Trixie's—appeared above the mare's head.

"Stop," said the hooded mare. "Five minutes."

Following her command, the patterns within her circle rearranged themselves and took the shape of a simple clock. The hands on the clock struck midnight, which was the current time, and began ticking.

When the stallion first saw the circle appear, he had tried to cast another counter spell. Now he was frozen in place with his mouth agape and a small spark lighting the tip of his horn.

The hooded mare grinned at her handy work and stepped between the pair of useless guards. She headed through the entrance and up the stairs, looking to find herself a seat.

"For her first trick, The Great and Powerful Trixie is going to pull a rabbit from her magic hat!" exclaimed the performer, prompting a chorus of good-natured laughter from her audience. She removed her hat and set down in thin air, allowing it to hover without the veil of light that normally accompanied a levitation spell. Instead, the hat seemed to float of its own power as Trixie reached a hoof inside in search of the rabbit.

"He's in here somewhere…" Trixie furrowed her brow in an expression of mock concentration, and the chorus of laughter rose as she comically, and rather impossibly, managed to fit the entire length of her foreleg into her hat. "Ah-Ha!" she shouted triumphantly as he pulled a white bunny dressed in jester costume from her hat. She held the rabbit in one upturned hoof and placed her hat back on her head. Agitated, the rabbit thumped one of his hind legs against Trixie's hoof.

Though only the ponies very near the stage could see Trixie and her new friend, the rest enjoyed the show via an enormous overhead holographic projection, like a hanging monitor at a sporting event. The difference was that this screen was maintained by Trixie's magic. The amount of concentration it took to sustain the hologram and perform her tricks would have proven too daunting for most unicorns. But Trixie wasn't most unicorns. Not only could she hold the projection together while performing, she also used her magic to project her voice without the use of any microphones.

"Come on Angel Bunny, smile for the audience," said Trixie as she petted Angel. The rabbit cocked an un-amused eyebrow and gave his round, red nose a single squeak. "Angel," Trixie chided playfully, earning another round of laughter from her fans.

Trixie tapped her left hind hoof against the stage, and a table rose up beside her. It didn't appear from out of some secret compartment built into the platform. Rather, Trixie had shaped it from the metal of the stage and caused it to sprout from the platform as naturally as a flower from the earth.

She set Angel down on the table. "And for her next trick, Trixie will pull a hat from her rabbit!"

Angel's eyes widened at Trixie's announcement, and he started to hop down from the table and flee. Magic or not, the bunny didn't like the sound of something being 'pulled' from him.

But before Angel could escape, Trixie's telekinetic grip snagged him. She placed him on the table again and patted his head reassuringly.

"Now say aww," instructed Trixie. Angel crossed his front legs about his chest and turned away, refusing.

With a smirk, Trixie forced the rabbit's lips open and used her telekinesis to reach into his mouth. A surprised look crossed her face when instead of a hat, she removed a piece of red tissue paper from between the bunny's parted lips. She gave the paper a tug, and when it was completely out of Angel's mouth, Trixie saw that it was tied to the end of another piece of tissue, this one blue. She gave another tug—and the crowd chuckled as she pulled piece after piece of colored tissue from the rabbit's yawning mouth.

"That's not right," she said, stopping a moment to rub her chin theatrically. Then she grabbed the rope of tissues with both hooves and began pulling frantically, only to find, much to the amusement of her audience, that the tissue rope apparently went on forever.

Trixie stopped again to think. Shortly after this pause, a light bulb appeared above her head (literally), and she turned toward Angel with a start. Using her magic, Trixie quickly compacted all the tissue into a single ball, which she then comically shoved into Angel's mouth, causing his cheeks to bulge. The rabbit teetered as though he might fall, but Trixie caught him.

"Now chew," instructed Trixie.

As Angel chewed, she tapped his head several times.

"Now say aww one more time."

Angel did as instructed, and the audience watched in intrigued silence as Trixie removed a small, origami hat that was sitting on the end of Angel's outstretched tongue. Pursing her lips in an exaggerated show of focus, Trixie slowly began unfolding the paper hat, and before long, the performer was holding a regular-sized, light-beige cowpony hat. She held up the hat for her audience to see, then walked it over to the edge of the stage.

"Excuse me, miss," she said to Applejack, who was sitting between Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie in the very first row. "Is this yours?"

AJ patted her mane in search of a hat that was no longer on her head, but instead in Trixie's hooves. She giggled and clapped as Trixie set the hat back on her blond mane, applauding the clever deceptiveness of the trick.

"Ladies and Gentlecolts, let's hear it for the always cooperative, Angel Bunny!" extolled the performer. She and Angel beamed and took a bow as the fans burst into cheers.

Parlor tricks. Cheap parlor tricks and clever misdirection—that's all Trixie's act was. Seated very near the top of the stadium, she crossed her forelegs about her chest and seethed with quiet fury. Bitterness twisted her face into a disgusted grimace. She felt ill from watching The Great and Powerful Blowhard prance around on stage like the gaudy, sideshow attraction she had allowed herself to become.

Glowering behind her veil of threadbare cloth, the hooded mare remembered a day when she had once considered this prancing, two-faced backstabber her friend. She recalled the long nights spent combing through the Royal Canterlot Archives with Trixie, studying, the two of them sharpening their skills as they cultivated their new friendship. They had mastered the mystic arts together. They had shared laughs and tears and secrets.

All lies. All tricks. The hooded mare knew that was the secret to Trixie's success. She was no great spellcaster; she was a trickster. She always had been.

"And for her next trick, The Great and Powerful Trixie requires assistance from a very special young pegasus!" the performer announced. "Ladies and Gentlecolts, let's hear a big round of applause for the lovely and talented, Rainbow Dash!"

With a thought, Trixie commanded the spotlights to follow Rainbow Dash as the cyan pegasus and fellow performer darted from her seat, cartwheeled through the air, and landed gracefully on the stage beside Trixie.

"Talented, sure," proclaimed the pegasus, rearing up on her hind legs as she pressed a cocksure hoof to her chest. "But what's all this 'lovely' talk? Sounds prissy. Some of us have a reputation to uphold, ya know?"

"Always the charmer, isn't she folks?" laughed Trixie, prompting her fans to do the same. "Rainbow, would you be a dear and stir up some rain for Trixie?"

Dash nodded, flew into the sky, and conjured a small rain cloud high above Trixie's pointed hat. Down below, the unicorn was performing some exaggerated stretches, when suddenly Rainbow let out a laugh and stomped the rain cloud, drenching the unsuspecting Trixie. Her hat, heavy with absorbed water, shagged over her face.

"Trixie wasn't ready!" Trixie shouted in mock anger. She was livid for a moment. Then her animated expression dulled to a straight-faced, flat-brow gaze as she blew a lock of soaking silver mane out of her eye. The crowd chuckled at her antics. Rainbow giggled into one of her cyan hooves.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," laughed Rainbow. "Okay, for real this time."

'For real this time.' That was Trixie's cue to start taking things seriously. She shut her eyes, drew in a deep breath, and pushed it out slow, waiting in a meditative state for Rainbow's second stomp. Trixie listened for the second thunderclap as she concentrated on the moister in the cloud and in the air.

Rainbow gave her cloud another stomp, and Trixie focused on the rapidly condensing moister as it fell from the cloud in drops. The magic circle of light above her glowing horn grew larger—but the patterns and designs inside the circle became simpler and simpler, until they disappeared completely, leaving an empty halo of light in their absence.

All of this happened faster than most ponies could think, and with her enhanced levitation spell activated, Trixie caught each individual raindrop as they fell. She held them suspended in the in mid-air like twinkling diamonds hanging from invisible strings. Then Rainbow began pushing her cloud across the sky at an even pace, and Trixie walked beneath it, her eyes screwed shut in concentration as she continued to freeze raindrops in place, not letting a single one wet the stage. The crowd let out a deeply impressed cheer. Telekinetically catching a falling object was simple enough for any unicorn. But stopping a small downpour with nothing but a levitation spell was no mere trifle.

Trixie's rain-catching trick ended when she sent the mass of suspended raindrops swirling over the audience, before letting them splash down on the center of the crowd.

Trixie beamed with pride.

The fans cheered.

Rainbow Dash shrugged.

"Meh. Not bad," she said, yawning and pretending to be bored. "But I think we can do better. Right, team!"

Following Rainbow's cry, two thunderclaps, one sounding after the other, disrupted the cheering and caused many of the fans to recoil with surprise. And following the thunder, a pair lightning bolts shot up into the sky from behind Trixie's stage. At first the lightning bolts flew side by side before breaking off and zigzagging like mad above the stadium, causing the crowd to scream with excited glee. What an exciting surprise! The advertisements for tonight's show had mentioned nothing about Trixie performing alongside the Wonderbolts!

Trixie winked up at Rainbow. Her horn sparked, there was a flash of light, and just like that the cyan pony was dressed in a flight suit that matched Soarin' and Spitfire's uniforms.

Together, the three pegasi used the night sky as a canvas, painting the midnight blue backdrop with vibrant streaks of color as they dashed and cartwheeled through the air, laughing like children at play.

"Citizens of Canterlot!" trumpeted Trixie. "Let's hear it for the Wonderbolts, and their new team captain, the one and only, Rainbow Dash!"

The hooded mare looked up at Rainbow, her countenance at first grim, then deeply morose. She had promised herself before coming to see Trixie perform that she wouldn't cry, that she wouldn't give Trixie the satisfaction of such a victory. But as she turned her face toward the sky, two defiant crystal clear tears rolled her cheeks.

At the start of Trixie's show, the hooded mare had been furious. But seeing Rainbow Dash dart through the sky with the Wonderbolts chased away her furry and left her feeling numb. When had Rainbow become captain of the Wonderbolts? thought the hooded mare. This wasn't fair. She should have been there to see Rainbow's crowning moment. She shouldn't have let Trixie take that from her.

The Wonderbolts stirred up enough storm clouds to drench the stadium in rainwater. Trixie stopped focusing on her holographic projection. The screen blinked out of existence. Trixie wouldn't need it for this next trick.

Her circle appeared, simplified, and expanded again—and when her fans saw the familiar halo of light that signified Trixie's enhanced levitation spell, a few of them covered their heads with concerned forelegs. Clearly, there were a few nonbelievers in the audience tonight, and the mere sight of them threatened to throw Trixie into a senseless rage.

Who were they to question her ability? Her power!

Her…worth...

_Insects_, she thought, and this time there was malice in the unspoken word. _I won't be questioned by insects!_

"Bigger!" she shouted up to Rainbow Dash, who had just finished forming the last of the clouds.

Dash darted toward the stage and was at Trixie's side in seconds. "Going for the gusto tonight, huh?" said Rainbow, jabbing Trixie playfully with her elbow.

"Do not laugh," snapped Trixie. "You see that fool in the audience—the one covering his head?" She inconspicuously pointed out an earth stallion near the middle rows who was staring up at the rainclouds and holding a newspaper over his head. A mare seated beside him gave the stallion a playful shove, embarrassed by his antics, and the two of them laughed together.

Rainbow squinted in the direction Trixie indicated. "He's just having a little fun, Trix," she said.

"No," Trixie snorted. "He doesn't think Trixie can do it. He doesn't think Trixie can stop them all."

Rainbow Dash felt the air around Trixie start to heat up, the way it always did when the unicorn was angry or frustrated.

"Cool it, Trix," Rainbow threw a foreleg around her friend's neck and pulled her closer. "It's just a show."

"It is not just a show!" Trixie snapped again.

"Uh, yeah, it is," corrected Rainbow. "And buck what some random fanboy thinks of your act. You know who loves your act? You know who thinks you can do anything you set your mind to?" Rainbow looked Trixie in the eye and touched a hoof to her own chest. "This filly right here. Me. Your pal Rainbow Dash. And if the ol' RD says you're on the level, then you're on the level, kid."

Trixie let out a calm sigh, soothed by Rainbow's words of encouragement. "You are right. Trixie is, as Spike would say, 'freaking out'."

"It happens."

The two of them shared a brief, heartfelt chuckle. Then a tender hug.

"One for luck?" asked Trixie, removing her hat and kneeling slightly to offer Rainbow her horn.

"All right, all right, one for luck," answered Rainbow, only a tiny bit embarrassed.

The hooded mare used a sight-amplifying spell and leaned forward in her seat as she watched Rainbow Dash press her lips against Trixie's horn in a gentle kiss.

She gripped the arms of her chair and shook with rage.

Trixie watched Rainbow float back into the sky. Through the arrogant eyes of the performer, the cyan pegasus was nothing but another insect. One of her favorite insect, perhaps, but an insect nonetheless. There was only one pony in Equestria whom Trixie considered her equal, and she hadn't seen that pony since the day everything changed.

Trixie looked up at Rainbow and gave a wink.

Rainbow nodded, and then she and her fellow Wonderbolts darted through the air at breakneck speeds. They stomped a sky full of rain clouds, the three of them doing the work of at least a dozen ponies.

Trixie shut her eyes and felt the moister in the air condense and solidify above her. She caressed the still forming raindrops with her mind, feeling them, measuring them, weighing them against one another. She felt the astronomically small differences in their sizes and their densities and the contours of their shapes. And in the space of one second Trixie came to know each individual raindrop as intimately as she knew anyone of her closet friends.

Then she lifted a single hoof, and ordered them to be still.

The audience didn't cheer. They didn't make a sound. They sat transfixed, eyes seeing while hearts and minds failed to believe.

The earth stallion with the newspaper reached up and brushed aside a raindrop that had stopped only a few inches above his nose. There was something like awe in his spellbound gaze—though it could have just as easily been fear.

Rainbow looked down from her cloud and returned Trixie's wink.

Grinning inwardly, Trixie inhaled and pushed out a cold breath that flash froze raindrops, transforming them into snowflakes. The sudden rush of cold roused the fans from their stupor. They erupted into ovation, stomping their approval as flakes of snow drifted down and settled on noses and outstretched tongues.

A lone snowflake landed on the hooded mare's upturned hoof. She watched it melt away, then turned her face toward the winter-white sky. Her hood fell away as she peered up, revealing a long, dark-blue mane that was colored by two streaks: one purple and the other pink. The mane cascaded down the nape of a graceful neck, while a pair of lavender eyes awed at the small miracle in the sky.

For the first time that night, Trixie had impressed her. This was no trick. This was real magic.

Trixie waited for the last of the snowflakes to melt before announcing her final trick of the night. It was a spell she had performed only once before, and at a much smaller venue than this one.

Before she began, Trixie took a moment to thank her adoring fans for coming out tonight and supporting her. Without them, Trixie declared, she was nothing—less than nothing—and she wanted the crowd to know there would always be a special place in her heart reserved for each of them.

She thanked her friends in the front row for believing in her when nopony else would. She thanked them for putting up with her haughty attitude. For forgiving her. For accepting the good with the bad, and for loving the flawed performer for who she was.

And finally, with warmth and love resonating in her voice, Trixie thanked her long time friend and mentor Twilight Sparkle, wishing the now wayward soul well, wherever she may be tonight.

"Now ladies and gentlecolts, feast your eyes and prepare to be amazed!" Trixie exclaimed as reared up on her hind legs, her voice booming thanks to a powerful voice-amplifying spell. "For her final trick, The Great and Powerful Trixie is going to make her audience disappear!"

Alarm spread through the crowd.

"Not permanently," she assured them, smiling at their collective panic.

It was neat little thought, though: making insects vanish forever. Trixie liked the sound of it. She liked it very much.

"In order for this last trick to work, Trixie needs help from all of her wonderful fans," she explained. "All you need do is close your eyes and think of place. It could be your home, a hotel room, a bar—anyplace in Equestria! Just make sure it's someplace you don't mind spending the night," Trixie added with a chuckle.

Nervous laughter floated up from the crowd. Unsure glances were exchanged. Then, slowly, very slowly, Trixie's fans shut their eyes and began conjuring mental images of their homes.

"That's it!" Trixie encouraged, "Think of wherever it is you'd like to be tonight. Think hard!"

Trixie closed her eyes and gritted her teeth in concentration. Her magic circle returned to its normal size, but now the patterns had become incomprehensibly complex. Thousands of smaller circles appeared inside of it, each of them signifying a different mind that Trixie was reading. Telepathy spells were difficult things to master. Reading one mind was a challenge for any unicorn. Reading dozens was impressive. Reading hundreds was near impossible. But reading thousands...that was a power akin to an alicorn's. Trixie reached into the minds of her followers, and was that much closer to the goddesses of sun, moon, and love.

At first the sheer volume of abstract thoughts overwhelmed her. She saw nothing but blurs and flashes, and heard nothing but static. Then, gradually, she began filtering the mental images. They came to her one by one, then two by two, then three by three—and they kept coming, kept bombarding Trixie's mind. And as she scanned the thousands of open minds, she came upon one that was closed. A psychic wall of some kind caused her to stumble for a moment, nearly shattering her concentration and ruining the entire spell.

Ignoring the minor hiccup for now, Trixie relaxed and let the audience fill her head with abstractions of bedrooms and cozy fireplaces. With thick leather sofas and creaky wooden rocking chairs. With silhouettes of doorways and barely-there outlines of office desks. With hardwood coffee tables, lava lambs, posters, old photos hanging in old frames, piles of dirty laundry lumped against hampers, faded winter jackets hanging from coat racks, bookcases, and soft blankets piled high atop softer beds. The images came in droves, and Trixie saw them clearly, as if she were, at once, present in each individual home.

And because "home" is more than a place—much greater than the sum of walls and floors and ceilings—Trixie smelled coffee burning in overused pots; and she heard the high-pitched whistle of antique teakettles; and she felt the gentle caress of parents and friends and lovers she didn't know, she would never know.

And she heard buzzing. Her head ached from listening to the hum of a thousand thinking minds, a thousand insect wings, all of them beating in unison. Theirs was the cacophony of the insignificant. The dirge of the forgettable.

Trixie focused all of her magical energy to a single point at the tip of her horn...and wished away the buzzing.

There was a brilliant flash of light, so bright that for an instant night became day.

When the light faded and Trixie opened her eyes, the stadium was empty. Finally, the insects were back in their hives where they belonged.

Trixie stood alone on her stage, basking in the afterglow of another successful show. She felt like a giant.

After a long stint of this basking, a pair or shuffling feet disrupted the stillness of the empty stadium, and a voice that resonated with affection ruined the silence.

"Nice work out there," said Spike, appearing from backstage. The baby dragon hadn't been teleported to back to the hotel suite he and Trixie were sharing during their stay in Canterlot, nor had he been transported back to their tree house library in Ponyville. But Trixie's spell had taken him home. Spike's home was here. It was at Trixie's side, wherever that may be.

"Thank you," Trixie replied. Then, simply because Trixie desired to feel the dragon's scaly body close to hers, she used her magic to levitate the him onto her back.

The two of them didn't say anything for a long time.

"Uh oh," said Spike, breaking long silence. "Don't look now, but I think you missed one, Trix."

It was dark, and the stage spotlights were out, but a dragon's eyes are nothing if not sharp. Spike pointed out the dark shape of a pony still sitting in her seat. Trixie used her magic to activate one of the spotlights and shine it on the pony. What she saw took her breath away.

Trixie's eyes bulged. Her legs moved on their own, carrying her toward the edge of the stage.

"Hey, you okay, Trix?" asked Spike. He waved a claw in front of Trixie's face, but the the vision of near perfection seated near the top of the stadium had entranced and distracted the performer. That long indigo mane. Those piercing lavender eyes, rending the night to be pieces with their dreamy, otherworldly luminescence. They beckoned Trixie.

The seated mare wore an expression that was at once uninterested and brooding. With her hind legs splayed, she rested her cheek against an upturned hoof, looking down at the pair on stage like the bored Goddess Queen Trixie had always known her to be.

"Twilight?" Spike gasped, his eyes widening with shock at the sight of his old friend.

Trixie staggered forward and nearly fell over the edge of the stage. "…Darling…" she breathed, smiling a crooked smile.

Trixie was elated. She hadn't seen her old mentor in years.


End file.
